


Desperate Measures

by fraufi666



Category: 50 Shades of Grey - E. L. James, House of Cards (US TV), House of Cards Trilogy (UK)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, American Presidents, Authority Figures, Blood Loss, Drug Use, Intimidation, M/M, Male Slash, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Multi, Politics, Romance, Suspense, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4139112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraufi666/pseuds/fraufi666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tired of being bossed around by the CEO of Grey Enterprises, Jason Taylor quits his job in Seattle and moves to Washington D.C. to start a job in politics. In the promise of being offered a chance to get closer to the president that he has started to develop feelings for, Taylor agrees to follow through with instructions by the Chief Whip. Yet Taylor soon realises that a job in politics is not at all how he expects it to be. Will it all be too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters in this story belong to Michael Dobbs, as well as the producers of the Netflix series of House of Cards. I have also used a couple of characters from E.L. James’s 50 Shades of Grey. I do not take credit for any of them. Some aspects of the storyline have been based from the novel version of House of Cards, as well as the Netflix series. Jason Taylor, a character from 50 Shades of Grey had always intrigued me, but in my opinion, had seemed rather underrated. I hope that I have done him justice in this particular story.

Jason Taylor pulled up his coat as he made his way through the heavy rain towards his boss' apartment. Seattle had always looked so gloomy. He sighed. The large skyscraper of Grey Enterprises towered over him and he had always felt so small whenever he had entered this place. It was like walking through to the lion's den. But, despite being prepared for the daunting ascent, he was not prepared for what he was about to see once he had arrived at his destination. 

 "Where have you been?!" a bedraggled Christian Grey growled, his slightly bloodshot grey eyes glaring menacingly at him as the bodyguard removed his coat. 

 "I'm sorry sir. I was caught up in the traffic." Taylor apologised meekly. "And plus I had to head down to the store to obtain the clothing for Miss Steele-"

 "No excuses." Grey interrupted. "You were given specific instructions to get here as soon as possible. What the hell were you doing out there anyway?!" 

 A slight frown appeared on Taylor's brow. "I just said-"

 "No talking back!" Grey ordered. "And would you go put that coat somewhere else? It stinks of rainwater. What did you do with the clothing anyway?" 

 "It's right here." Taylor said, pulling out a damp parcel from the wet mound of his coat. Inwardly, he cursed himself for not being very careful with keeping the parcel away from the rain. "I tried to keep it as dry as possible."

 Grey snatched the parcel from Taylor, tearing the paper from it and throwing the slightly damp pieces of lingerie on the floor. "No! This would not do!" In anger, he threw a bra directly at Taylor. Yet the other man was quick to duck, causing the bra to smack against the glass statue of a woman that was sitting nearby. Before either man could realise what was happening, the statue toppled and smashed on the floor. 

 Taylor was sure that Grey's bottom eyelid was twitching as he glared at the mess and then at Taylor in turn. 

 "I want that cleaned up. Immediately. And hurry up. Ana is going to be here in any minute now." Grey demanded. 

 "Yes sir." Taylor responded automatically. From having a past in the army, such obedience was practically second nature to him. Yet unlike most of the commanders he had served under, he did not admire Grey. The man had such a short fuse and increasingly he was starting to feel slightly uneasy about the way Grey had taken care of that new young woman in his life. Taking care of? More like manipulating.

 He pushed the thought out of his mind immediately as he found the dust pan and swept away the broken shards. Whatever he had seen had to be kept confidential anyway and there was no way that he could ever tell Grey how he felt directly. Any slight criticism of Grey's operations would cause him to lose his job immediately. There was no way that he would find another job that would pay as high as this one anyway. And at his age, it was increasingly more difficult to find another job for him. He had a slight smile on his face as he whimsically thought of flipping hamburgers at Burger King. 

 But something interrupted his train of thought as he swept. There was a slight murmur of voices, causing him to look up from the floor. His eyes moved towards the direction of the sound until he realised that someone had turned the TV on. 

 The news was on. There were long shots of a cheering crowd before the camera panned towards a tall, grey-haired man as he made his way up to a podium. He was to be the new president. 

 "Greetings, fellow Americans." The future president greeted at the screen. His eyes stared directly into the camera and Taylor found his gaze locked into his. "When I was just a young boy, there was only one thing I had wanted to do. I wanted to change the world. And now, you ladies and gentlemen have given me the chance to do so. I will deliver to each and every one of you the best services and care that you all deserve. And I intend to also make America a better place for all of your children and grandchildren. We are approaching a new time, and a time, which will have obstacles. But I am determined to-"

 "Taylor!"

 The bodyguard could not even hear the impatient voice shouting at him as he stared directly into the eyes of the president, taking every single word to mind. It was as if it was the answer he had been waiting for, for so long. Everything the man said had made so much sense and he felt slightly guilty for voting for an Independent party instead of for him. 

 "Taylor, I'm talking to you, damn it. LISTEN TO ME. Get your eyes off the screen!"

 Of course. He had been a fool for working for Grey. There was something out there in the world for him. And it was staring directly into his eyes. A job in the government. It amazed him that he did not think of this before. With all of his credentials in the military he was sure that he could be considered. As he stared at the American flag that stood proudly behind the president, scarlet flowed from his fingers and onto the floor. 

 "You're making a mess, Taylor…TAYLOR!"

 Taylor looked down and realised that he had cut himself from the many shards on the floor. Grey towered over him, fuming. 

 "What did you think you were doing, watching the TV like that?! I told you to clean the floor and you ignored me! And now look what you've done. You've bled over my carpet. Jesus Christ."

 "I quit." Taylor said quietly, clambering to his feet. 

 "What?!" There was a deranged smile on Grey's face, as he could not grasp what was happening "What the hell-"

 "I quit." Taylor repeated, loudly this time. He felt himself grow more confident as he straightened himself to his full height "I've found a better job. I am not going to work here anymore."

 "Can you even hear yourself?!" Grey shrieked as Taylor went over to take his coat and head to the door. "You haven't even finished sweeping the floor! Have you even thought this through?! You are a FOOL if you think you can just run away like this. I MADE you. I gave you a decent job and this is how you repay me?"  Grey glanced between Taylor and the television, and then it clicked.  "You don't even know a single thing about politics!"

 Taylor nodded "I know. But I am willing to learn. Goodbye, sir."

 "Who is going to drive me?! Who is going to fetch me my things?" Grey kept on crying out. Even though the news was already told to him, he was not adjusting well to the idea of doing everything on his own. Just as Taylor had walked to the door, Grey blocked the way, rage contorting his features. 

"Without me, you're nothing. You hear me?! NOTHING!" Grey spat in his face. 

 Taylor wiped the saliva off his cheek and with a single gesture, pushed him firmly aside. "I'd rather be nothing than to be serving a man who only cares about himself. Goodbye."

 "If you ever think I will give you your job back, think again!" Grey's voice continued to scream as Taylor walked to the elevator. Even after the doors closed, he could still hear Grey crying out to him but the words were no longer discernible. 

Now alone in the elevator, Taylor felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. There was uncertainty that came with this loneliness, but a new determination that was growing stronger with any minute.

From this moment on, Jason Taylor was a new man and he was going to follow his own orders for once in his austere life. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

A week later, Taylor was walking through the corridors of Capitol. Just as he had hoped, he was accepted for a job interview. He held his resume, trying not to crumple it as he tried to find the right room for the interview. Even though he had been staying at a flat in Washington D.C. for a while, he had still felt so unacquainted by his new surroundings. He could not find where he had to go and was feeling too embarrassed to ask for directions. 

 Ahead of him, he saw that a door slightly ajar and decided to take his chances and ask whomever it was inside where he had to go. Without much ado, he opened it. 

 "Who said you can come in here?!" A voice barked. 

 Taylor stood back, trying to hide all signs of shock. A ruddy-faced man in a suit was glaring at him and just behind him sat the grey-haired president who he had seen on the television. "Sir." He said calmly, and then found himself saluting obediently at the other "Mr President…" Up close the president looked even more imposing than he did on the television. Fortunately he kept his face unreadable, cold. Just as he had been trained to do in the army. "I apologise. I had strict instructions to go to the room at the end of the corridor for a job interview." 

 The ruddy-faced man frowned. "That gives you no excuse to go barging in on our discussion! The president and I were speaking about confidential matters-"

 "That is quite enough, Pierce." The president responded calmly. The ruddy-faced man shut his mouth obediently, looking rather foolish for being silenced by his superior. He looked up at Taylor with a warm smile. "Welcome. I am President Garrett Walker and it is good to see a new face join us. If you would go to the room just across from this one, you'll find the place that you are looking for." He took out a hand and Taylor shook it firmly, feeling comforted by the warmth. 

 "Thank you, Mr President. It is an honour to meet you." With a final salute, he turned on his heel and left the room. After the door had closed, the president gave a small smile.

"What a funny man." 

 

Not wanting to repeat his current mistake, upon finding the room Taylor knocked the door. 

"Come in." A male voice said immediately. Just like his surroundings, it was unfamiliar, laced with a North Carolina accent. Taylor immediately walked in and saw a man standing at a window, his back towards him. He spun around, his dark eyes alert. 

"I am Frank Underwood, Chief Whip." The man introduced himself, shaking Taylor's hand. "Now, please take a seat and we can begin this interview."

 Taylor obeyed and placed his resume on the desk directly in front of Underwood promptly. Underwood stared at the resume, studying it intently. But every few seconds, he would look up and meet Taylor's eyes. Suddenly, he pushed the resume back to him. 

 Taylor looked puzzled. Was there perhaps something wrong with the resume? The other man's expression was difficult to read. With some worry, he wondered if perhaps he did not have enough credentials to take the job.

 "How much do you want this job, Jason?" Underwood asked, staring directly into his eyes. 

 He was putting him on the spot. Taylor answered the question in the only way that he could. An answer that he had been trained to say since joining the army. 

 "To serve my country, sir." Taylor responded immediately. 

 Underwood dismissed him with the wave of his hand. "No no. That is not the right reply for someone who wants to work in government." He brought his fingers to a steeple; resting his chin against them "Do you know what matters are at stake for a job like this? Politics builds the foundation of the nation…politics builds the world." Underwood's eyes lay on the Theodore Roosevelt portrait that hung in his office "Great men build the world, don't they?" The dark eyes were back on Taylor's light ones once more. Underwood stood up. "You could very well walk out of this room right now, if you are not prepared for what this job might offer you. I know of many who have been sitting where you are right now who have done that. Find yourself an easy job as a security guard in a shopping mall. The shifts are much easier than what this job has, that much I can tell you."

 Taylor was not going to be deterred that easily. He had left Seattle for this and to leave without a job would be a great waste of time. "I am up for the challenge, sir. And I want to be able to protect the most powerful man in the world-"

 Suddenly Underwood's eyes lit up. Taylor gulped, realising that he had revealed far too much than he had intended. He hoped that the other man would not read into his words. 

 "Oh?" Underwood inquired, as his eyebrows rose "You want to work for the president, don't you?" 

 Shyly, Taylor nodded. 

 There was some amusement in his voice "Don't be so coy." He leaned closer to Taylor "You want more from this, I know it. There is no need to deny it. I am the Chief Whip and I know of far worse secrets than the one that you have tried to keep until now." There was a flicker of a smile. "Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac, I know*. Many people have succumbed to the charms of those in the public service." 

 Taylor gripped the armrest in alarm. Since when did he become so transparent? "No, I…"

Underwood placed a hand on his arm "Your secret is safe with me, don't worry." There was some kindness in his voice, which made Taylor feel reassured "I can help you, Jason. I can give you the position that you desire. I can pull a few strings and make you work directly for the president. But such things are not so easy and I will need something back for it."

At this point, Taylor was willing take any offer. He had come so far and there was no chance that he was going to turn away now. "Anything." Taylor responded firmly "I will do anything for such a great opportunity." 

 The older man leaned back in his chair "Well," He began "You should, as a former soldier, know that you can be provided with jobs that you don't want to do. As Roosevelt once said, it is only through labor and painful effort, by grim energy and resolute courage that we move on to better things*. There have been lives you've had to sacrifice, lives you've had to take. The same thing applies to politics. In fact, war and politics is very much the same thing."

 "I beg to differ." Taylor interjected "See, war and politics are not that similar at all. There is no bloodshed involved in politics." 

 A sudden laugh startled Taylor and he could see the Chief Whip chuckling as if he had told him a very good joke. Taylor looked puzzled. Before he could even figure out what he had said that was so funny, Underwood began to speak again.

 "You are still a young man. You have no idea what tricks are involved in politics. But I need you to be just like a rock. Solid and quiet. If, say, something were to happen to your fellow colleagues within the public service, I need you to be able to follow through everything with precision and with no question. Can you do that, Taylor?" 

 There was a slight pang in his heart when he heard Underwood's words. To be told that he was still a young man was greatly insulting. He had never felt his ego take such a smarting. Perhaps working and living under Christian Grey had made him more sensitive. But now he was not going to be controlled by that man anymore. He was going to be different. Tougher. 

 "I can." Taylor responded finally, standing up. "I will do any task that is assigned to me, you have my word. And I am willing to adapt, whatever the circumstances."

 Underwood scrutinised his expression for a long time. Even though he was standing over him, Taylor felt like he was still being intimidated by the other man. 

 "Good. You will work for me personally for the time being. A Chief Whip needs protection too." With that, he patted Taylor on the shoulder, signalling him to leave. "Take the rest of the day off and I'll see you tomorrow." 

 "Thank you sir." Taylor responded quickly, "Goodbye."

 Underwood gave a nod in reply yet there was something more stirring in his dark eyes. Taylor had left well before he had noticed this, however. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

The flat was pitch black as Taylor lay awake. From all of the events today, he could not fall asleep. He could not believe that he had met the president, even if only accidentally. But most of all, it was Underwood's proposal which had left his mind buzzing with activity. What exactly did the older man have in mind? And was he really going to give him a chance to be closer to the president? It was almost too good to be true. Yet there was something about Underwood that had drawn him to him. He could trust this man, at least more than he could trust Grey. This job was bound to be more exciting than his past occupation and it was most likely that he would be paid significantly better. After living with Grey for a while, he was not completely used to the less than luxurious living standards. Hopefully he would earn enough money to move into a better flat. 

 He rolled over. It was still too early to think about such things. As he closed his eyes, he thought about the way the Chief Whip had chuckled at him for his confusion. As long as he did not show his naivety, perhaps then he would be treated better. He wanted to prove himself to be more than just a past soldier who could just follow orders. Underwood seemed to know so much about everything that went on in government and it was definitely likely that he would spend so much time with the president. Perhaps, if Taylor had done his job right, Underwood would brief him on insights of the president. Or even better, he might even give him a chance to see him personally. Especially given how furious Pierce was towards his intrusion, the president had seemed to be heavily guarded. 

 Taylor just hoped that he would be there to guard him away from everyone as well. 

 

 The next day, Taylor showed up early at Underwood's office. The other man was reading through some papers when he had entered. 

 "Good morning, Jason." Underwood greeted. "Now, while you are here, I'd like you to do something very important. A certain congressman by the name of Peter Russo is meant to be attending a meeting today. Only he is not here yet. I need you to give a little something to him." He reached into the back of his desk, pulling out a small, puffy envelope from the drawer. "Could you deliver this to him as soon as possible? I have the address of his whereabouts. It won't take long and this would be strictly confidential. All you need to do is slip this through the letterbox." 

 Even though this had sounded like such a simple task, Taylor was taken aback. Surely this was not the type of errand that a guard should be doing in government.

  _Why can't you send it in yourself?_ Taylor wanted to ask, before he bit his tongue in compliance. Any sign of resistance would cause him to lose his job. And it was only his first day. It would be even more of damage to his ego if he were to lose his job so quickly. 

 Taylor reached for the parcel, yet Underwood gripped his arm before he had the chance to.

 "I know it is tempting to see what is inside it, but under no circumstances should you open it. So before I can let you take it, I need you to be absolutely careful about this. I am keeping a big secret of yours and I would prefer you to do the same for me. Is that understood?"

 There was a slight silence in the room as Taylor took in those words. Only the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the background gave some reminder that reality was still around them. 

 "Yes sir." Taylor said. 

 Finally, Underwood let his arm go. "Deliver that parcel. And come back as soon as possible. Do not talk to anyone. Do not answer any questions." With that, he slipped him the card of the congressman's address and contact details. 

 

 Taylor left the room in a state of even more uncertainty than he had experienced when he had arrived. He was careful to tuck the parcel casually under his arm so as not to alert the attention of the public servants that were walking in and out. Fortunately for him, people regarded him with politeness, being a tall, built and fairly attractive male. The suit that he wore often when he used to drive Grey around also helped. 

 With luck, Taylor had found the address without difficulty. He parked the car and ascended the steps. It was a long walk, but knowing how crowded the elevators were, Taylor decided that it was probably a wiser decision. He did not even know what was in the parcel. There was an urge to just tear a tiny hole at the corner, just to take a quick glimpse. But upon remembering the sternness of Underwood's features and the way he had gripped his arm, Taylor discarded the notion right away. 

 Approaching the door, he looked around to see whether he was truly alone and then slipped the parcel directly into the letterbox. There was a small thump as the parcel fell to the floor and Taylor did not waste too much time leaving the place before the congressman had arrived at the door. 

 He did not think much of the errand once he had returned to Capitol. Underwood asked Taylor to help him distribute documents such as the bill to those in the Democratic Party as well as to supervise the people within the House of Representatives. This often required very simple tasks such as refilling jugs of water and showing people out of the door when the debates got too rowdy. The menial nature of his job reminded him of when he had to work for Grey, only this time it was different. Things were better and far more interesting. He still had little interaction with the people or any part in decision-making, but this time he was working amongst the most powerful people in the world, not just for one egotistical man. Underwood gave a small smile of approval in Taylor's direction when he had followed through with all of his tasks. 

 

_Upon hearing the letterbox clang, Peter Russo rose from his laptop and walked over to the door. On the floor, as he had expected was the long-awaited parcel. He placed the parcel on the kitchen counter and then tore one end triumphantly. White powder dusted the granite and to his delight, there was plenty of it._

_With a note, Russo artfully arranged the substance on the counter into neat, white columns before rolling it up into a thin cylinder. Positioning it directly beneath one of his nostrils, he inhaled deeply._


	4. Chapter 4

Days turned to weeks and Taylor found himself still performing the same duties. It puzzled him that he had not been given the position that Underwood had promised him. He had almost forgotten about the delivery he had made to the congressman, until he had received another message from Underwood to deliver a second parcel. But after he had done his job and returned home to rest, his phone lit up in the dark room. 

Slightly tired and disoriented, Taylor reached across from the bed to his phone and picked it up. It was another message from Underwood. 

_Urgent business. Please meet me near the Capitol steps. Do not ask any questions. Make sure to have your car ready._

Puzzled, Taylor was just about to send a reply. He was too tired for another obscure task. But just as his fingers were about to touch the keypad, another message appeared.  

  _Now. I do not do waiting._

With a sigh, Taylor got up and put on his coat and shoes. After he had driven to Capitol, he saw the lonely silhouette of the Chief Whip standing at the bottom steps. Underwood walked over to the passenger seat immediately and sat down beside Taylor. 

 "Russo needs to be taken to the A.A. meeting. I cannot afford one of our own men getting attacked by the press." 

 "What's happened?" Taylor asked. He was not even sure what the A.A. meeting was, or where it was located. 

 Underwood narrowed his eyes. "I'd rather not discuss private matters of my colleagues." He rested his chin against his fist, thinking for a while before addressing Taylor's gaze once more "But I could make an exception with you. You're bound to find out anyway, if the Republicans make a big deal of it on the front page."

 Taylor waited. 

 "Russo is our best candidate to run as governor. Yet his ongoing drug and alcohol addiction has made it rather difficult for him to be taken seriously. We are going to help him become clean again by taking him to the Alcoholics Anonymous." Seeing that Taylor was still sitting there listening to him, Underwood's tone changed. "What are you waiting for? Drive down to his apartment right away. We've wasted too much time." 

 Taylor quickly drove to the destination. He had parked the car and was about to follow Underwood inside yet the older man stopped him.

 "It might startle him if there are too many people. I'll go. He needs to see a familiar face." 

 Reluctantly Taylor agreed to sit in the car and wait. It took almost ten minutes until he saw Underwood supporting an exhausted figure into the car. Russo was slightly younger and upon closer inspection looked as if he had too much to drink. 

 "I haven't been drinking though…" Russo slurred in protest. 

 Underwood was strangely paternalistic. "If you are serious about running as governor, we need you to be as sober as possible. Now how can we get you to the meeting when you're like this?"

 "A cold shower tends to work." Taylor offered. 

 Underwood looked slightly surprised at Taylor's advice and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to consider. But he shook his head. "There is no time. Just drive down to some fast-food joint and give him a hot meal."

 Once Russo had sobered up a little bit, Underwood took him to the meeting. Taylor again felt disappointed that he could not come inside with them. There seemed to be so much more to this situation, yet Underwood would not let him know anything. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel in boredom. There was a temptation to play some music to entertain himself, but he was feeling too nervous to do so. Although it looked as if Underwood knew what he was doing, there was an instinct that there was something wrong about it all. But for the life of him, he could not seem to figure out what it could be.

 "We're back." Underwood responded after what had seemed like an hour. Russo seemed more sober now, but was still not very responsive. Taylor wordlessly drove him back home, annoyed that he could be left out in something as serious as this. Perhaps if he had left this job, he could find something better, but what? What else could be out there for him? Maybe it was time to face the facts: Taylor was only really good at following orders and nothing else. A wave of hopelessness washed over him at the thought. 

 "Just drop me off down here." Underwood said as they drove through what had seemed like the upper class district of town. Taylor obediently stopped the car and waited for Underwood to depart, but the man still lingered. 

 "Is there something wrong?" Taylor asked nervously.

 Underwood faced him. "I have to assure you that what we are doing here is very necessary. And you have been very helpful." He placed a hand on his shoulder "Don't worry. I haven't forgotten my promise to you. Keep at it." And at that, he climbed out of the car and disappeared into the shadows. 

 When he had arrived home and climbed into bed, he thought more about what Underwood had told him. It made him slightly guilty that he was even considering leaving this job. Underwood had been nothing but kind to him and he was already doubting the man's motives behind the tasks that he was assigned. Why was he getting uncomfortable? He was being offered the chance of the lifetime, to get closer to the president. And he felt too ashamed to admit, but he was starting to fall for the president more than he had realised. The memory of the president smiling at him from his first meeting with him lingered before he had fell asleep. 


	5. Chapter 5

Taylor did not hear much about Russo for a month. All seemed to be going well. The man was attending the A.A. meetings and he was willing to make an effort to be a good governor. The thought that Underwood's motifs for Russo’s recovery were unsavoury was dismissed. Everything was going well and he was starting to feel positive himself. He was also able to now escort guests to the president's room, although he did not really get a chance to speak to the president himself. But he could not complain. Things were starting to fall into place and soon he would be able to spend more time with the important man. 

Yet all these hopes were about to dash. 

"Jason. So good to see you." Underwood said politely as Taylor walked in. "I have another very important job for you." 

 Expecting the man to give him another parcel to deliver, the man reached behind his desk and produced a wig, glasses and a large, brown overcoat. Taylor could not help chuckling slightly. 

 "I thought men in government were too old for dress ups." Taylor said with an amused smile. 

 The older man did not share the same sense of humour. "I need you to put these on. What you're about to do is very important and may be quite risky." 

 Taylor was perplexed. Out of all of the jobs that he had to do, this was bound to be the strangest. Never had he needed to wear a disguise for anything before. 

 "Is it…illegal?" Taylor asked immediately. 

 It was Underwood's turn to be amused. He gave a light laugh. "Oh no. It's just best to go through with it. A great man once said that the only man who never makes a mistake is the man who never does anything.*I never said that this job was easy. So are you up for it?"

 Taylor found himself nodding and slipping on the disguise. When he was just buttoning the jacket, he felt a lump in the pocket. Curious, he pulled it out, finding a bag filled with what looked like white pills. 

 "What are you trying to make me do?" Taylor asked suspiciously, eying the pills in horror. 

"You are to go to the congressional party that is on tonight. Russo is there. Make sure to get him alone, introduce yourself as Max Jones, journalist for The Times and then give these to him. Make sure to be a devoted fan of his work. He is quite a party boy if around someone he is comfortable with."

The younger man's eyes widened. "Don't be ridiculous." Taylor gasped, "Are you expecting me to just undo all of our hard work? He is just becoming clean. I can't go through with this." 

Suddenly, Underwood was no longer standing behind his desk. He had lurched forward, pinning Taylor against the wall. There was no escape. 

 "Be careful with who you are calling ridiculous." Underwood uttered menacingly. "I got you this job. And I'm giving you a chance to pursue your crush on the president. Not many people are as generous as me. But of course, if you don't want this job, I can-"

 "No. I'll do it." Taylor said quickly, feeling embarrassed that Underwood was mentioning his secret out loud. He did not even want to think about what would happen if he wound up jobless again. If he were to stare into those dark eyes any longer, he was sure that he would become quivering mess. He had never felt so scared before, not even when he was on the battlefield.  

  _Pull yourself together._ Taylor told himself. _All you are doing is sending a delivery. You've done this before._

"I help you and you help me." Underwood said. "Isn't that how it should always be?"

 "Of course sir." Taylor responded firmly. "You have my word." 

 

 After finding the venue, Taylor slipped inside without any question. He was careful to take the back entrance so that he would not be caught. It took him a while before he was able to locate Russo in the crowd of laughing people. He stood with lemonade, a clever choice on his behalf. Taylor felt guilty for now being responsible for changing all of that, but he went forward, watching Russo until he excused himself to the men's room. 

 As Russo was washing his hands, Taylor emerged from one of the cubicles. 

 "That was a great speech you did." He said casually. Sensing Russo's confusion, he introduced himself. "My name is Max Jones, journalist for The Times. I've been following your campaigns for a while."

 "If you want an interview, I'm out." Russo said hesitantly, "I don't talk to journalists."

 Taylor felt himself perspire as he anxiously tried to make the man stay with him. Acting was certainly not his strong suit and it annoyed him that Underwood could not go in and do the job himself. "Oh no. I'm not after an interview." Taylor insisted "I just want to congratulate you on all your hard work. I wonder how you do it. Public service is a very difficult occupation and sometimes it's good to wind down once in a while." He took out the drugs from his pocket. "Go on, now is your chance to relax. It will help blow off some steam."

 Russo laughed, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. "No. I'm not going to risk a relapse. I have to do a speech tomorrow. I can't afford to lose this chance as governor." 

 "These drugs are completely harmless." Taylor lied. He was not even sure what these drugs would do. "Just take one. You'll feel lighter, more confident. And you'll do a much better job as a speaker. Past presidents have taken these before and they help. Even JFK was a great fan of these. It will help give your speeches more of a kick and the crowd would love it." He was making up information on the spot, sweating under the heavy coat. But he had to say anything to get the man to take the pills.

"I guess it can't hurt if I take one." Russo said, giving in. He took one of the pills. Taylor pretended to take one too, although just as he was about to put it in his mouth, hid the pill between his fingers. Russo had not even noticed. 

 Nothing really happened after he had taken it. Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps these were nothing more than a placebo. 

 "Oh wow." Russo remarked. "I feel more…confident. I can see why presidents would take these. Is it okay if I take another?"

 "All yours." Taylor said, giving him the whole bag. He could not afford to stick around for too long in case something was to happen to him. Not only would it be suspicious, but his conscience would never forgive him "Well, goodbye."

 Russo gave a wave, grinning boyishly as he did so. Then, he was left to his own devices.

 

The next day while Taylor was attending to Underwood, there was a phone call. Underwood instantly picked up the phone and answered it. There was a look of surprise as he listened.  

"Oh? That is terrible. Really terrible. How did that happen?" There was a long pause as he waited for the person on the other end of the line to finish talking. "We'll definitely have a firm talking to him. No doubt about it. Goodbye."

He hung up and looked at Taylor who was waiting for Underwood to tell him what had happened. 

 But Underwood's face showed no signs of opening up. "Tonight you are to come round to Russo's place. Deliver this package to him as usual." 

 At this point, Taylor could not just obediently follow his orders. Not without knowing the full story. "Something has happened to him, hasn't it?" He asked. 

 Underwood stared at him blankly "What are you on about? Nothing has happened. But you do need to deliver this parcel to Russo tonight as always."

 Taylor looked down at the desk, the envelope sitting on top of it. He shook his head. He could not believe how stupid he was to participate in this scheme. "No." He said in firm determination. "You're trying to set him up." 

 There was a manic shine in Underwood's dark eyes and for a split second it looked as if he was going to strike him. But Underwood's hands remained at his sides. "All that is in there, that you must know, are documents." 

 The former soldier shook his head. He could see straight through those words of deceit. There was no way that the man could pull the wool over his eyes again.

 Underwood pushed the envelope towards him. "Even see for yourself! Go on, look inside!" 

 Taylor opened the envelope, expecting to find the worst. But as he tore open the envelope with trembling hands, a whole pile of paperwork fell onto the desk. He looked at the papers, startled and then back at Underwood. 

 There was a hint of a smile. "Are you satisfied?" Underwood asked. "The reason why I didn't want you to look inside is because they are very confidential documents." He turned around to stare outside of the window at the gloomy grey Washington skies. "All we are trying to do is to help our colleagues, not harm them. As Chief Whip, why would I want to abuse that position?" He turned, gazing at Taylor gravely. "Russo is a bright young man. Our only preferred candidate for governor. What did you think was going to be there anyway?" His tone sounded offended, even hurt. Taylor felt his heart tremble and he stared at the floor, ashamed. 

"I am sorry sir. I had no idea. I thought you were up to something." 

Underwood smiled understandably. "It is alright. You still have your military wits about you."

Feeling guilty, Taylor left, carrying the documents in a new, untorn envelope. For the next few days, he had avoided him, thinking more carefully about his place in the scheme. Still, there was nothing that really stood out. Maybe he was just going crazy. It was possible that a new environment was making him more vigilant, like that on the battlefield. 


	6. Chapter 6

As he arrived home one day to check the news online, he almost felt his stomach sink. The headline from The Times, read something that he had been dreading to see. 

_Russo's slip up on speech reveals slip down to drugs._

In disbelief, Taylor moved the cursor to the footage of the speech. Russo was standing there, speaking to his audience. He seemed lively to begin with, but started stammering and repeating sentences. He blinked a few times, slow on picking up on what he had previously said and when questions were asked, he was unresponsive and unhelpful. The poor man was talking himself in circles.

 "Are you on drugs again, Russo?" A man from the audience asked. 

 Taylor closed the laptop. He had seen enough. Whatever pills he had given him had clearly taken him back to the state he was in before. No, even worse. Quickly, he picked up his phone, about to ring Underwood. But he stopped short. The man was probably going to threaten him if he had showed any signs of suspicion. He decided to leave the idea behind. 

 Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. Who would be visiting during this time of the day? He could not even recall sending his address to anyone. His occupation was a lonely one and apart from Underwood, he had no friends. With some hesitation, he opened the door. 

 Underwood stood in the doorway. "Hello Taylor. I am glad I found you. Why don't you come by to my place?"

 Taylor looked baffled. Surely this was just another mission. But before he was about to take the next task, the man laughed. 

 "I just want to be friends with you, Taylor. You've worked for me for quite a while now, but we don't know each other that well." He looked around Taylor's small apartment. "This is where you live?" He asked in surprise. For a Chief Whip, such quarters would have been far too modest. 

 Before Taylor had the chance to explain that he was content, Underwood spoke again.

 "All the more reason for you to come over. Please, be my guest." 

 

 Before he knew it, he was walking into what had seemed like a grand house. A tall, slender woman with short blonde hair smiled at him kindly. He had recognised her on television. It was Underwood’s wife.  

 "You must be Jason Taylor. Francis has told me so much about you. Please, come in." 

 Taylor smiled slightly. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs Underwood." 

 "Oh please, call me Claire." The woman insisted.

 As the three had stepped into the living room, Claire insisted on pouring drinks for all of them. 

 "Nothing for me, thanks." Taylor said politely. "I have to work early tomorrow." 

 Underwood laughed, "Oh come on, you work for me, don't you? Come on, live a little." He gave him a glass. Claire was already drinking from her glass. 

 Taylor finally gave in. Maybe some alcohol could relax him a little. He wondered why he was so paranoid lately. He took a sip. 

 The alcoholic substance burnt his tongue and throat. He was coughing, turning red in embarrassment for looking so affected by the drink. Underwood and Claire looked so unaffected as they drank theirs. 

 "What is this?" Taylor gasped. 

 "It's just some brandy." Underwood said calmly. "Go on, have another. You'll get used to the taste." 

 Taylor took another sip and sure enough, found out that the taste was not so bad. "Francis..." Taylor addressed him casually. He felt that now it was worth bringing up Russo. "I saw the article. What has happened to Russo?"

 "Russo? Oh, poor man." Underwood sighed. He refilled his glass "His ego must be completely shattered now. Probably doesn't want to run for governor anymore." He turned to his wife. "We tried to help him, Taylor especially drove him to the meetings to help him recover. It's such a shame."

 "Oh yes." Claire agreed. She placed a hand on Underwood's knee in comfort "You've done all you can. Both of you." She looked at Taylor as well. "Now who wants another drink?"

 

 Hours later, Taylor felt more relaxed. He was slouched in his chair, compared to his rigid position earlier. Somehow, everything seemed so amusing and he was breaking out in laughter at Underwood's stories. He could not even remember what they were, but he enjoyed being so carefree. Eyes slightly heavy, Taylor decided to take a brief rest before heading back home. 

 "He's exhausted." He heard Underwood say to his wife. "Take him to the guest room and remove his shoes. Then to Taylor "There is no way in hell you're going home tonight. Stay here." 

 With the support of the Underwoods, he stumbled drunkly to the room. Claire had removed his coat and shoes, helping him onto the bed. He felt comforted by the woman's touch and later realised that it had been a while since he had experienced it. Now that he thought of it, it had been too long since he had a relationship with anyone. He had forgotten how lonely he had felt until that moment.

 "Well at least you are enjoying yourself." Claire smirked, noticing the smile on his face. She turned to her husband who was watching them both. Underwood walked closer. 

 "You're in good hands." He said, and just as he reached over to adjust his pillow, Taylor's head nestled against the older man's hand. Underwood smiled. There were no words needed. He liked the way his hand felt against his face and found his other hand reaching out to touch him on the arm. 

 Soon, he felt someone plant kisses up his neck, soft, slender hands running up his shirt. Taylor sighed at the sensation. Even though sex had not really been something he had thought about much, he could now understand why Grey had so many partners. He chuckled at the thought that now he was able to experience two at once. Grey would be bound to throw a fit if he knew about this… especially when it was two people connected to politics. 

 

_Once he was sure that Taylor was fast asleep, Underwood got up from the bed and dressed briskly. Claire was already awake and nodded at him knowingly. She knew exactly what he was about to do. Both of them had planned this for so long._

_Underwood drove through the streets, stopping the car once he had reached Russo’s apartment. He was careful to wear a hat and glasses, so that the surveillance cameras would not identify him. When he had approached the door, he produced from his pocket an envelope filled with a powdery white substance. He slipped it through the letterbox and then descended the stairs._

_Russo, utterly depressed about yesterday’s embarrassment, could not sleep. He breathed a sigh of relief as he found the envelope. Right now, he needed drugs more than anything. He was thankful for having a secret dealer and planned to thank him in person someday, whoever he was._

_He arranged the powder into the same columns as he always did before leaning down to breathe in the substance. It was to take him away from the embarrassment and into a comforting euphoria._

_But as soon as he inhaled the substance, he gasped, holding his throat in pain. With eyes wide and bloodshot, he fell to the floor._

_  
Russo was never going to be able to thank the drug dealer._


	7. Chapter 7

The next day, Taylor was up and dressed, his head sore from last night's activities. The house was completely empty. Both Claire and Underwood were out for a jog. He washed his face and headed out. There was a chance that he might bump into them but if so, he was not sure how he would react, given what had happened last night. 

It was only when Taylor had arrived back in Capitol that he found everyone in horror. He tapped one of the congressmen on the shoulder. 

"What's happened?" He asked gingerly. 

The other congressman looked at Taylor in a mixture of shock and anger. "It's Russo. He…he's gone." Tears were welling in his eyes. 

 "A suicide?" Taylor inquired. 

 "Nobody knows exactly. But at this rate, I wouldn't be surprised." One of women said. Her eyes were downcast. "Rat poison…I knew he was really cut up about the whole blunder at the governor speech, but geez…his poor children." 

 Even though he had not known him well, Taylor felt a deep sadness for him. Russo was gone. And now all of the handwork was for nothing. He did not even know that he had children and that knowledge had made him feel all the more terrible for participating in his downfall.

 As soon as Underwood arrived, there was a hush in the room, as if it was he who could solve all of the problems. 

"Today we have lost a great man." Underwood's tone was grave. "Why he decided to take his life, we will never know. A tragic, tragic loss. He was a good friend to so many of us, and on top of that, a diligent worker and a wonderful father. He will be missed."

 

After everyone had gone back to work, Underwood gestured Taylor to follow him in his office. The cold and serious demeanour was back and Taylor was starting to wonder whether he had just imagined last night's event.  

 Underwood closed the door to make sure that there were no eavesdroppers. He adjusted his cuffs. 

 "I had spoken to those who had found his body. There is an investigation…" Underwood lowered his voice and walked closer to Taylor "But this might not have been a suicide after all. A figure was seen to exit the premises late last night. It is this visitor of his, who might have been the last person who saw him alive." 

 Taylor looked puzzled. "But what has this got to do with me?" He asked before hesitantly adding, "I was with you…last night."

There was an amused twinkle in his eye "Yes…" He said, "Yes you were indeed. So who could possibly have killed him? It makes no sense to me." He paced backwards and forwards, wondering. 

 But then he looked up. "I guess it is not for us to know. Perhaps the investigators got it all wrong." 

Like Underwood, Taylor also hoped desperately that the investigators were wrong too. Yet there was something that was slightly off about the suicide. Nevertheless, he tried to focus on tasks assigned to him for the day.

 

Sure enough, a funeral was held and a few colleagues showed up, along with some family. Nobody had shed a tear, not even his children. There was just so much anger, so many unanswered questions. The funeral director spoke of him being of a man who was of good ideas, who had a big vision, but largely left out all of the man's failures. It was the troubles with public service. He said. All those who worked for the country were bound to break under the pressure. And it was Russo who had broken, broken well beyond repair. 

Taylor stood solemnly at the gravestone for a while before moving away. He needed something to rest his eyes. Something more colourful. All around him was black and grey. Was life always this colourless? Washington, although more exciting and challenging compared to Seattle, was not at all colourful. Life itself was not so clear either. Everything was just filled with confusing shades of grey.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The death of Russo was soon treated as a mere minor event of history. Nobody really brought it up again. Recently however, Taylor had noticed that the public was starting to get upset with the government for not putting enough funding into areas like education and health care. He turned off the television. That was to be expected. Not everyone in the public was a fan of the president. But it did make him wonder why people were starting to doubt him. There were also rumours that the marriage between the president and the first lady was not at all that smooth. But who could trust the press that easily?

It was one warm evening when Taylor was driving past the White House. From a distance, he could see one of the lights come on upstairs. Although it was too far away to tell who was in there, Taylor instinctively knew that it was President Walker, who was possibly sitting with a strong drink in his hand, holding his face with the other. He stopped the car and sat for a moment, wondering what the president was really up to or what kind of mood he would be in. Things were getting rather tense for him. 

He climbed out of the car, walking as close as he was allowed to and stared up into the window. A curtain fluttered slightly. Walker was there for sure. It was as if he was sending a message to the former bodyguard below, showing him that he was a man alone and in trouble*. A man that needed care. And that made sense. Even the strongest man needed unwavering support by the few fans he had left. Taylor wanted to just climb over the fence and attend to him. Walker was like a damsel in distress, a princess locked away in a tower with no way out. And there was such an overwhelming urge to go and save him, to whisk him away from the world that made him so stressed. It would have been hard, Taylor realised, to be placed on a pedestal by everyone and expected to do everything correctly. If he had the chance, he would spend time with him, treat him as an equal and give him as much loyalty and respect that he had deserved. Oh but one could dream.  

_As he stared up into the window, the curtain opened. Walker was standing there, staring down at him, beckoning him to join him. Suddenly, Taylor was upstairs with him, sitting on a luxurious couch in the Oval Office._

_They did not do much for a while. They sat in silence, just enjoying each other's company. They were both smiling, although they were not staring into each other's eyes. But they could feel each other's joy. There was a hand resting on Taylor's shoulder, perhaps about to pat him and thank him for all of his hard work. He then felt a hand in his hair as Walker's lips finally met his._

Taylor shook his head slightly, as if to wake him up and then got into the car and drove away. By then, the light in the room upstairs had gone out. 


	9. Chapter 9

A few months later, Taylor was sitting in the car anxiously, eyeing the neon lights before him. He was doing another task for Underwood, yet like everything else, he was forbidden to ask any questions about it. All he knew was that it was to create scandal. 

Suddenly, there was a tap on the window. Taylor turned around to see a remarkably attractive woman with heavy makeup and her hair done up in a messy bun. Quickly, he opened the window. 

"You work for the president, no?" The woman asked, revealing a heavy accent. Russian, possibly. 

"You could say that." Taylor said, knowing that he was of a much lower rank than she had expected. Yet he had wanted to impress her somehow. "Natasha?" 

The Russian smiled "Yes. Can I come in?" 

Taylor gave a nod and let her sit in the passenger's seat. There was not much time. He had to get her straight to the president right away. Although his eyes were mainly on the road, he briefly shot a few glances to the foreigner next to him. He tried to figure out what exactly her connection to the president was. Was she connected to the Russian Embassy? His hands tightened on the wheel as he tried to concentrate on the road. _Right. No questions. Just do your job, Taylor._

Once they had reached the White House, Taylor remained in the car as Natasha walked up the steps. He was used to all this waiting. Most of his working life seemed to involve that. As soon as Natasha was well and truly inside, Taylor followed in after her, sticking close to the shadows so that nobody would spot him. Fortunately the corridor seemed to be empty. 

Finally, once he was sure that they had reached the president's quarters, he could hear Natasha speaking to the president casually. Yet he was too far away to make out the words in detail. Cautiously, he moved closer, and upon remembering the polaroid camera in his pocket, drew it out and had it at the ready. 

The door was left slightly ajar so it was enough for Taylor to see both the president and Natasha speaking with each other on the couch. Then suddenly, the woman reached over tugging the president's tie. Walker looked alarmed and tried to move away, but she had laid a hand on his cheek, which seemed to reassure him. Slowly, she moved closer, until her legs were dangling over his lap, one on each side. 

No matter how important it was to avoid a scandal, even the most powerful man could not resist the attention that was before him…the lure of an accented voice, the seductive red lips. The long nailed hands that were running against his chest was surely going to push him down his high rank. But he let her. 

A pang of jealously coursed through Taylor's veins but in an instant, it was gone. He tried to remind himself that it was not real. This was, in fact, used to benefit him. The camera shook in his hands as he watched them. As his finger moved towards the button, it was as if he was on the battlefield again, about to pull the trigger, about to slay the enemy.

Underwood's words were still in his mind

_War and politics is very much the same thing…_

Yes. He remembered that there would be sacrifices that needed to be made. How was this any different to being on the field? He knew what he had to do, and he was going to do it now. 

Like shooting furiously at the enemy, Taylor clicked the camera, once, twice, thrice… He clicked until his fingers felt numb…until he was sure that the two lovers lying on the couch had displayed enough to make for incriminating material. And after he had taken the photos, he stumbled away into the dark, like a criminal. 

Underwood was going to be so proud of him, but somehow, that night he was unable to sleep with ease. 

_Just like a criminal._

 

Taylor did not hear anything more about the photographs for a while. But he knew that they would not be forgotten. One afternoon, Underwood had pulled out envelope from the desk with the presidential seal. 

"I need you to give this to the president." Underwood instructed. "It has an important letter inside that is for his eyes only."

"Understood." Taylor answered, taking the envelope from him. As he was about to go and deliver it, Underwood stopped him.

"He is seeing the Chinese President who is just visiting briefly. So you need to go put this envelope somewhere obscure so that the others do not try and find it. He'll know it's from me." 

Without much ado, Taylor made his way to the White House. But on his way to the president's office, he decided to take a bit of a peek to see what was really inside the envelope. Surely, if he had only taken a brief glance, all of his suspicions with Underwood would end. He just needed clarification. 

With his heart in his throat, Taylor very carefully opened the envelope. But nothing had prepared him for what was inside. 

There were polaroid pictures inside. The ones he had taken. There were only a few, yet he remembered that he had taken many more. He almost felt ill. Why did he have to send these in? It only took a few moments to realise that perhaps these were used to blackmail the president. 

Suddenly, he could hear footsteps. Quickly Taylor took all of the pictures, shoving them into the envelope, deciding to destroy them for the president. He would have to find the rest and destroy them too, for Underwood could still send them to the press. Such material would bring down his career. Taylor would never forgive himself if the president had to resign because of a scandal. 

The door swung open and in shock, Taylor dropped the envelope. It was lost somewhere, under the desk. There was no time at all to pick it up and leave.

"What are you doing here?" The president asked as he walked into the room. Taylor clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking. The envelope was nowhere in sight. If he had told him the true reason why he was there, he was one step closer to sending the president to his doom. So with a calm, no-nonsense expression like in the military, Taylor spoke his own truth. 

"I was here to see you, actually." Taylor responded. Walker looked surprised, but somewhat relieved. "I have heard that things have not been easy. But I want you to know…" His throat closed up before he even got the chance to confess something that he felt would make the situation worse. "I just wanted you to know that I respect you and that you have all my support, sir." Taylor concluded weakly. 

The president was speechless, but to Taylor's relief, he smiled. "I appreciate that very much, Jason." For the first time, Taylor noticed the lines on the president's brow and the bags under his eyes. From afar behind the podium, this was the face of power yet up close, it was the face of too little sleep and excessive stress. Taylor felt even worse for leaving the photographs under the desk now.

"Goodbye, Mr President." Taylor said finally, turning away from the other man. Walker stared blankly at the door as the other man left, completely confused about the purpose of the man's arrival. But soon forgot about him as he did some work. Luckily for him, he still did not notice the envelope that was only a few inches away from his shoe. 

Meanwhile, Taylor was still walking through the corridor when he stopped still. What he was about to do was to assist in the president's scandal. He remembered watching the television and seeing the president make his speech and how he stared at him with admiration. His only goal was to protect him, to work for him. And now, he was getting closer to his downfall.

He stood in silence, remembering how much the president had meant to him. If he had let something like this happen, he would never forgive himself. Surely, it was a crime to assist in the president's collapse?

There was no time to waste. Taylor spun around and ran back towards the president's office. He was going to destroy those pictures. Whatever Underwood had told him was no longer important. He was not going to jeopardise the president's position for the sake of another. Not on his life. 

Taylor arrived back to an empty office. It was possible that the president had retired to his quarters for the night. If anyone caught him in here, he would lie and say that he had forgotten something. Anything. Being told off for trespassing was nothing compared to assisting in a possible impeachment. 

Fortunately the envelope was still under the desk, untouched. Taylor picked it up and left the building immediately. He had felt as if a weight was taken off his shoulders. However, such a relief was so short-lived. What was Underwood going to say when he discovered that things were not going his way? 

Once he had arrived home, Taylor placed all of the pictures inside the waste bin. Then, he took out a match, struck and lit the evidence. All of his troubles, as well as the president's were now up in smoke. Polaroid seemed to look so beautiful as it melted, perhaps mainly because of the feeling that went along with it.

Taylor was going to save the president. 

 


	10. Chapter 10

A few days later, Underwood managed to corner him alone in the corridor and requested him to follow him into the office right away. Taylor expected that this would happen. For several nights leading up to it, he knew that Underwood would find out. But he still was unsure as to how he could prepare himself for it. 

The door closed and Underwood spun around dramatically to glare at him. 

"I had given you one task. One simple task. And that was to give the president an important envelope. Why have I not heard anything about him receiving it yet?" His tone sounded calm. Deadly calm. Taylor would have shivered had he not been trained rigorously to hide his emotions. 

"I know what was inside it." Taylor said straight away. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he noticed the fury that filled those dark, malicious eyes. "You promised me that I could help the president. And I was happy to do that. But not like this."

Underwood was enraged. "Are you an idiot?! I was _helping_ him! Those pictures were going to incriminate him. So I was sending them to him so that the public wouldn’t find out."

Taylor shook his head. He could not trust a single word that was coming out of this man's mouth. Nothing Underwood had said really made sense. He had only wished that he had followed his instincts sooner, rather than later. There was always something suspicious about Underwood's motifs. 

"You're a liar." Taylor pointed out truthfully, getting more confident with every second. Underwood's anger only took him back to when he had worked for Grey. He had gone to this job to get away from being bossed around. "I don't know what you are trying to do by sending those pictures to the president. But I'm sure that you'd love to explain your plan to the authorities once they find out."

Underwood looked amused "You really think that they will believe the word of a mere servant over the word of a Chief Whip? What makes you so sure that you know me that well?" He smirked, leaning closer. “In fact, I have so many connections, Jason. I know everyone in Capitol. And I also have connections to the media as well. You see, I _am_ the authority. It would be so easy to just tell the papers about a young bodyguard who had tried to break up the marriage of the president and the first lady by worming into the political arena. A homosexual bodyguard with an obsession for the president will make for a very, very interesting headline indeed.”

“No...” Taylor gasped, realising how easy it would be for the whole situation to be pinned on him. He had been so foolish in agreeing with this scheme “Don’t…”

Underwood shrugged. “Well the choice is yours. You were the one who took those pictures, don’t forget that. I am making things very easy for you. Now get out of my sight.”

Taylor left the room.


	11. Chapter 11

For the next few weeks, Taylor was unable to sleep easily at all. Underwood had completely shut him out. Even though he was still being paid, he was not allowed to speak to the Chief Whip. All plans Underwood was making now, was done without his involvement. He was meant to be glad, but some part of him knew that this situation was far from over. The pictures were still somewhere in Underwood’s office and he had to destroy them before it was too late. He could not afford for his own career and reputation to be in jeopardy as well as the president’s. Furthermore, he did not want Walker to end up loathing him either.

Fortunately that afternoon, Underwood was out all day, possibly involved in some campaign trail. Even though he had often asked for Taylor to be by his side, even to chauffer him, this time Taylor was left to his own devices. Now was the perfect chance, but the only chance in which he could prevent everything from turning into chaos. Cautiously, he had slipped into Underwood’s office, once making sure that none of the secretaries had seen him. Most of the people who he had passed by in the corridor did not even pay any mind to what he was planning to do. He was thankful for small mercies like that.

Firstly, Taylor had checked the desk thoroughly, taking into consideration not to mess up the current order. But after looking into all the drawers, none of the polaroids were there. He furrowed his brow in concentration, trying to figure out where else Underwood would hide the photographs. The Chief Whip was clever. He would not hide the polaroids in an obvious space where anyone would be able to stop him.

He got down on his hands and knees and started to check under the rug. But still, the pictures were nowhere in sight. Where else would Underwood possibly hide them?

_Think, Jason._ Taylor chided to himself. _Try and think like Francis._ He was about to check the bookcase until he remembered something that Underwood had once told him. Perhaps, one of the first things that he had said to him when he had stepped into Capitol to take this job.

_It is only through labor and painful effort, by grim energy and resolute courage that we move on to better things._

How so much has changed since then. Like with his occupation with Grey, he had blindly obeyed every word, believing that such painful work was necessary and courageous. He had let the man get into his skin far too easily. Yet it was perhaps still not too late to turn back now.

Taylor remembered the quote, and then turning to the face of a great man who once said it, smiled to himself slightly. Theodore Roosevelt looked back at him proudly from behind his spectacles, as if he too knew what Taylor was up to and gazing at him in encouragement. He could think of a far more relevant one for this point in time.

_Desperate times call for desperate measures.*_

It was a desperate time indeed. And as Taylor stepped closer to the portrait, he knew that he had to do this, even if it meant that he would lose his job.

Heart pounding and palms perspiring, he had, with some difficulty removed the portrait and turning it around, discovered all scandalous photographs of the president behind. Quickly fixing the portrait in place, he had examined each one, realising with some joy that it was indeed the remainder of the photographs. Taylor breathed a sigh of relief, and quickly tucked all photos safely into the depths of his coat pocket.

Once Taylor had exited the room, he overheard Underwood’s angry voice. A cold sweat broke out over his being. He had not expected him to arrive back so soon. The congressman was walking up the stairs, barking in a way that he had never heard before. Swiftly, Taylor managed to slip into another corridor so that Underwood was unable to see him as he walked towards his office.

“I don’t _care_ if it doesn’t work, damn it. My only man for this job had let me down and now I have no choice but to do this. I KNOW it’s illegal.” Then, in a quieter voice, he uttered, “The next speech is tomorrow. I want you to plant the thing there.” He paused, perhaps listening to the protesting on the other end of the line.

Taylor’s eyes widened in fear, and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from crying out in alarm. After he had just narrowly saved Walker from scandal, there was something else planned. Underwood seemed to always be a step ahead of him.

  
“I don’t want any excuses. He had it coming. _Do it_.”


	12. Chapter 12

The next day, as Taylor had expected was a grim one. Even though Underwood had not even noticed that the pictures were gone, he had kept Taylor at arms length, not even telling him that he had to accompany him for the president’s speech. But after listening to yesterday’s conversation, he was aware that he was not supposed to know about this event.

Underwood had said something about something being planted, yet Taylor could not think of what it could be. Perhaps it was a bomb. But would Underwood be so indiscreet? It was so unlike him.

Standing near the back of the large audience, Taylor tried to keep an eye out for anything that seemed odd or out of place. He had glanced behind each chair, yet nothing really stood out to him.

Then, as he shifted slightly to the right, he saw it. He was rather far away, but behind the podium stood a black suitcase. With all of the people looking up ahead of them on the stage, they would not even notice it. And especially as the president had entered the room, all eyes were on him. Walker was on his way up the stairs towards it, waving as the crowd cheered.

As Taylor scanned the crowd anxiously, he could not see Underwood anywhere. 

The president was getting closer to the suitcase now. His heart thudded in his chest as the man he had felt so deeply towards was walking closer to his death. He could not just stand there and watch him. It would kill him to know that he had played a part in all of this, even if it was only subordinate. 

"Stop!" Taylor shouted. The audience gasped and the president's eyes were directly on Taylor's. He paused, startled by the man's cry. "Don't come any closer, Mr President. There may be a bomb behind you." 

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some screams accompanied and people were fleeing to the exit immediately. Taylor stayed put, not wanting to leave the president behind. 

Quickly, the SWAT members were ordered to come at once. The men stormed up the stairs and seized the suitcase without much ado.

"Get out at once!" one of the SWAT men cried, seeing Taylor still standing there. An entourage soon joined and ushered the president away, with Taylor following close behind. He tried to catch the president's eyes, but Walker was much too distressed to notice him. 

Yet it came as a great surprise that when the briefcase was finally opened, there was nothing inside. Although Taylor was unaware of this, there was a feeling in his gut, something, which told him that, this was far from over. 

Once outside, Taylor was walking in front of the president when he noticed a dark shadow block the bright sun that was shining on his face not long ago. He glanced up, squinting. 

Up on the top of one of the buildings, there was a dark figure crouching, holding something long and sinister. To a typical spectator, this could have just been the trick of the light. But the former recruit knew that this was anything but. 

The figure was armed, and the barrel was, unmistakably pointed towards the most powerful man in the world, as he was just about to make his way to the crowd. The entourage was not going to be enough to stop him. 

If there was one job that Taylor was going to do right in his whole political career, albeit a short one, he was going to do exactly what he had intended. It was as if he was back in the first interview with Frank Underwood.

_I want to be able to protect the most powerful man in the world._

Right now, it was a matter of life and death. And his only chance to save the one he loved. The only thing running through his head as he sprinted towards the president was Underwood's voice as he quoted a great man.

_The only man who never makes a mistake is the man who never does anything._

Taylor knew, with absolute clarity that he was not going to be this man. He was so close to the president now, and just as the other man was about to inquire him, a loud bang silenced them both. But it was one man who was forever going to remain silent even after this moment was over. 

With tears in his eyes, Taylor squinted back at the building. The assassin was gone and he could feel the sun against his face. _Why_ , he wondered with a bitter smile,  _was life so cruel?_  Even for someone like Underwood who was inspired by a great man, how was he still able to commit so many atrocities? He gasped, gripping his chest. As he moved his hand up, he saw scarlet flow from his fingers. It was as if he was back in Grey's residence once more, staring at his hand as he cleaned the broken shards. It had happened so long ago, yet the memory felt so fresh in his mind. This was also shortly after he had finally seen the man who was about to change his life forever. And it was this man that he undoubtedly saved.

"Jason!" 

There was a voice behind him, yet he could not even turn around to see who it was. His legs felt limp as he fell forward and he could feel someone trying to pull him up. "Jason!" It was more desperate now, yet he could still not respond. Grimly, he doubted that he ever could now. 

He had fallen to his knees, slumping over the ground. The figure was becoming more desperate. Hands seized his shoulders and with great difficulty, they were able to move him back so that he was lying on their knees. 

President Walker was staring down into Taylor's eyes. There was so much emotion in them that it hurt Taylor to see them. His hands were in his hair, caressing him gently as if they were very close companions. 

"Jason…oh Jason." Walker gasped, tracing a hand against Taylor's face as if consoling someone who was crying. "Please, don't die on me now." Judging by the trembling in his voice, Taylor knew that the president needed consoling more than anyone. Oh how he wished to reassure him and wipe away his tears. But it would be too late, much too late for that. Walker was bound to thank him for saving his life, but Taylor was not going to hear him.

All of the people surrounding them seemed so distant, so far away. It was as if the two were in a world of their own. Was this what love really felt like? Taylor wished that everything could always be like this. He tried to smile at the president, but was feeling far too weak to do so. If he could show him his love for him, now would be the perfect opportunity. They were so close and it seemed as if nobody was going to disturb them. Yet Taylor lay there weakly, his face turning paler as his life bled from him. 

"H-help is on its way." Walker choked, still holding him tightly. Taylor knew that those words were a lie, but felt somewhat comforted. There was something about Walker's voice, which told him that everything was all right. The utmost sadness and the willingness to protect him only meant one thing that Taylor had wished for so long. 

As if to confirm his thoughts, Walker leaned down and planted a kiss on his blue lips. It was a brief kiss, but filled with so much sincerity that it seemed to last for an eternity. Taylor closed his eyes, a small smile appearing. This was exactly what he had wanted. He was going to take this to the grave with him, he was sure of it. But it felt too soon and as everything around him darkened, he tried to hold on to Walker and onto that last moment that they had shared together. He had hoped desperately that they could be together in their next life.

  
He desperately held onto the last caresses, memorising Walker's features even as the darkness intensified and the light went out forever… 


	13. Epilogue

_I did not intend to kill that pesky bodyguard, but I suppose it was worth it. He had known far too much about what I was planning to do with the president and sooner or later he was going to tell someone. It’s always funny how those beneath us seem to assume the role of the hero, thinking that perhaps they can all save the world from the corruption of the government. But well, the boy was a soldier. I could not have expected any less from him. He probably died, thinking that he had done his duty for the country._

_But there are no happy endings, not while there is a government. I already knew that Taylor had planned on taking back the pictures. He was getting smarter and I let him. You really think I was stupid enough to leave my office unoccupied while I had let Taylor work for me still? And the bomb? Well that was a red herring to make a mockery out of the boy. If I had made sure that Taylor was absolutely forbidden from the speech, maybe then I would have been able to continue the plan like how I had wanted._

_When Taylor was busy hiding behind shadows and trying to plot against me, I had concocted a plan that was bound to backfire on him. Since I had not informed him about the speech, at least not directly, I knew that he was probably going to try to sneak in there. After looking at his credentials, I figured that he would be the best person to be accused of assassinating the president. Yes. Of course. As I had warned him, I was going to make sure that it was he, out of his obsession with the president, to kill him out of madness, just to make sure that nobody else was going to have him but himself. Rather like the Mark David Chapman case no? The famous assassination of John Lennon._

_If only Taylor had stuck to the shadows then, my plan would have worked. Taylor would have died in a lunatic asylum, or a prison, being charged for murdering the president. But the foolish boy had stood in front of him, the idiot he was. And that was how he had gotten into the way of my marksman. Now Taylor is dead and the president’s marriage and reputation is a shambles because of that grotesque love scene. He had to resign in disgrace…just like that; he had kissed his presidency away. The press are going mad about this story now. Homosexuality and the plotted assassination all in one. All of the conspiracy theories of the president and the man who was to become his bodyguard will fuel the press for a long time until I can fully prepare myself for the next rung up the political ladder._

_As fate would have it, the right man has now been destined to the throne. I have a very good chance to run for president now, and this time nobody can stop me._

_-Francis Underwood._

**Author's Note:**

> *Footnotes for historical/literary explanations: 
> 
> “Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac”: This was a famous quote stated by Henry Kissinger upon being asked by Mao Zedong as to how he was able to attract so many women. This quote perfectly demonstrates how so many are attracted by politicians, especially in the case of Taylor’s infatuation for President Walker. 
> 
> “It is only through labor and painful effort, by grim energy and resolute courage that we move on to better things.”: This was a quote stated by President Theodore Roosevelt. Underwood states this quote so to convince Taylor, a former recruit, who would be used to such things to follow his orders. 
> 
> “The only man who never makes a mistake is the man who never does anything.”: This is another Roosevelt quote, which I felt was suitable for the content of this story. The tasks that Taylor is provided stir much doubt and hesitation, yet he is partially driven by this quote to do something about the difficult situation that he is involved in. 
> 
> “A curtain fluttered slightly…. It was as if he was sending a message to the former bodyguard below, showing him that he was a man alone and in trouble”: This quote was oddly from an unrelated work of literature, Ian McEwan’s Enduring Love. This novel had a scene of a stalker who was convinced that he had seen the object of his infatuation send messages to him through the movements of the curtain. Taylor notices this, which leads to his fantasy. 
> 
> “Desperate times call for desperate measures”: Another one of Theodore Roosevelt’s quotes. This quote best demonstrated how most of the situation was a desperate one, which had required much risk-taking. Part of this quote was also used for the title of this story.


End file.
